Chapter 35
Jacob
Jacob straightened his collar, though it did nothing to hide the chaos under his skin. His pulse was thundering in his ears and his hands were still unsteady as he shoved them into his pockets. The air in the hallway was thick with everything they'd just done, but stepping back into the ballroom meant pretending it hadn’t happened. Out here, he was someone’s husband, and he had to play the part.
He pushed through the service door and the noise swallowed him whole. Laughter spilled across the room, glasses clinked beneath soft lighting, and the curated playlist filled the air. Everything gleamed with polish and control, the kind of world where nothing messy was meant to exist.
He spotted Caroline talking to a woman from PR, a glass of wine balanced effortlessly in her hand. Her smile was bright and her makeup flawless. When her gaze landed on him, her expression shifted into warmth so easily it could have been rehearsed. She excused herself and moved toward him with practiced elegance. Jacob felt his body hesitate before he forced himself forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Something inside him was splintering. He couldn’t stop imagining the way Liam must look down that hallway—flushed and undone, trying to put himself back together after Jacob hadwrecked him. He hadn’t just enjoyed that dominance; he had needed it, craved it the way lungs crave air.
“Is everything okay?” Caroline’s brow pulled in the faintest crease, her eyes scanning him as if she were searching for the thing that had slipped out of place.
“Fine,” he said, his voice hoarse and utterly unconvincing.
She didn’t press, only linked her arm through his and drew him closer. To anyone watching, they were the picture of success. Nothing could be further from the truth.
For one agonizing second he wished he hadn’t left that hallway at all. Not because it was thrilling or forbidden, but because it felt like the only real thing he’d touched in years.
Caroline’s voice cut through his thoughts with a mention of the showrunner’s wife. He hardly absorbed the words, but he let her guide him across the room, nodding automatically as she introduced him. All the while, his hands still tingled from gripping Liam’s body, and his ears still rang with Liam’s voice—gasping his name like it was both salvation and curse.
He thought of the look on Liam’s face when he’d asked if he still fucked Caroline. He had tried not to answer, because answering meant naming it. It meant acknowledging that Liam had stopped being a fixation and had become something he couldn’t live without. It was not gentle, not romantic, but brutal in its clarity.
This was supposed to be fleeting, something to burn through and discard when reason returned—only reason hadn’t returned. Liam had ruined him, and no part of him could imagine going back to a life untouched by that ruin.
Fear settled into his chest like a weight. He was terrified of the fallout: hurting Caroline, losing time with his children, watching the career he had built brick by brick collapse under the scrutiny of the world.
Yet none of those fears cut as sharply as the thought of Liam walking away.Thatwas the terror that seized his lungs and left his hands trembling.
The realization hit him just as Liam reentered the room, sending a jolt through his chest. His hair looked mussed, his shirt not quite tucked right, and there was a flush across his throat that hadn’t been there before. Jacob’s eyes clung to him helplessly.
“What’s wrong?” Caroline’s voice startled him back. She studied him, head tipped to the side. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just a headache.” His mouth formed the excuse, but his eyes betrayed him. They kept returning to Liam’s profile—the line of his jaw, the too-bright smile he wore for the benefit of others. He was trying too hard and laughing too loudly, his tension obvious to anyone who looked close enough. Jacob could not look anywhere else.
The conversation with the showrunner’s wife ended with polite laughter, and Caroline gently pulled him aside. She led him toward a quieter spot by the windows before turning to face him. “You keep watching him.”
“What?” His voice faltered.
“Liam,” she replied. “You keep watching him like nothing else exists.”
Words failed him.
“I didn’t mind it before,” she continued, her calmness cutting sharper than rage ever could. “The leaked clip, the chemistry, the gossip, the way the studio pushed the story. It was all part of the job.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “But lately you don’t touch me. You’veneverlooked at me the way you look at him right now.”
The silence that followed was answer enough, but she pushed anyway. “It’s not just acting, is it?”
“Caroline,” Jacob rasped, “please—”
Caroline nodded slowly. “I used to think people were wrong. When the rumors started, I defended you.” Her voice didn’t rise; if anything, it fell quieter, which only made it harder to bear. “Is it true?”
He hesitated for the briefest moment, but it was enough. He could have denied it—should have—but the lie stuck in his throat and refused to move. The truth pressed too heavily on his chest. When she looked at him like she already knew, he realized he couldn’t lie to her. Not about this. Not anymore.
Her eyes hardened. “God. It is.”
“I never meant—”
“No one ever does.” Her words were sharp, but her face smoothed again, the practiced facade sliding neatly back into place. She leaned in so close only he could hear her. “Do you love him?”
